


Which Doctor

by ghostystarr



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, Halloween, Humor, M/M, Romance, daisuga - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 03:33:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5114405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostystarr/pseuds/ghostystarr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Grinch of Halloween, Sawamura Daichi, meets and loses a guy in a doctor costume during a party. The only hint he has is a half-washed message on his arm directing him to a date he doesn’t remember agreeing to. AU Daisuga.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Which Doctor

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a quick one-shot but look what happened. Also, geddit? Which doctor, like the witch doctor?? :')
> 
> Anyways, Happy Halloween!!

Daichi wasn’t a fan of Halloween. When he was six years old, his older brother and his friends hid behind bushes and scared the Hershey kisses out of him. When he was nine, he discovered he had a latent peanut allergy while blissfully eating a Reese’s cup, unaware of how quickly his face was puffing up. When he was thirteen, he went to the wrong house and got chased by an impossibly huge dog with a foaming mouth and had to climb over the fence, breaking his arm in the process. When he was seventeen, his first girlfriend broke up with by deciding to make out with another guy at the party they were attending. They’d been wearing a couple’s costume and everything.

At twenty, Daichi was done with Jack-O-Lanterns and with faux skeletons being planted in his closet. He’d been called the ‘Grinch of Halloween’ by his friends, but, when one suffered as many misgivings on Halloween as Daichi, he took the title with pride.

Not that that stopped his roommates from throwing a giant Halloween bash each year. For the last two, Daichi had managed to wriggle his way out of being anywhere near their apartment during the party. Graveyard shifts, going home for the weekend, sitting blankly in the library until the early morning – it didn’t matter. He wanted nothing to do with a holiday that had literally once bit him in the ass.

“You should just come,” Kuroo whined as they walked into the dining hall. “It’ll be fun as hell. Drinks, dancing, lots of available drunks in costume.”

“As enticing as babysitting you in a slutty cat costume sounds,” Daichi glared, “I’ll pass.”

“But Kenma’s gonna be there.”

“And?”                                                                                                      

“And I’ll be in my ‘slutty cat costume.’” Kuroo glared back. “Who’s gonna keep me from doing something embarrassing?”

“Trust me. Someone will.”

“You’re impossible, Daichi. Seriously, stubbornly impossible.”

“I try.” Daichi hiked his chin up higher. “Besides, it’s almost midterms. I need to study.”

“You need to lighten up,” Kuroo interjected. “And _loosen_ up. It’s all work with you. You’ll drive yourself crazy, you know, if you stay cooped up in that library all the time. You’ll get literal bookworms digging around in your head, bro.”

“I’ll risk it.”

“Ok, look, how’s this?” Kuroo stepped in front of him, cutting off Daichi’s escape route to the stir fry station. “Don’t even think of it as a Halloween thing. It’s just a party.”

“With costumes and _the_ _Monster Mash_ and fake hands floating in the punch bowl.” Daichi shook his head. “No dice.”

“Not even for booze and babes?” a new voice interrupted them. Daichi inwardly groaned before he even thought about turning around.

“Bokuto,” he greeted flatly.

“Bokuto-san,” Kuroo grinned sharply and pointed at Daichi excitedly, “tell Daichi he has to come to our party Friday night!”

“You have to come to our party Friday night,” Bokuto repeated solemnly. “You can either come willingly or we’ll drag you. No studying. Just booze and babes.”

Daichi groaned. “You guys. I get where you’re coming from but I _hate_ Halloween.”

“GRINCH!” Bokuto yelled.

“What, you’re going to let your ex ruin a whole holiday for you?” Kuroo interjected. “It was three years ago!”

“We were _Mr. and Mrs. Potato Head,”_ Daichi interjected. “Do you know what if feels like to see the other half of your costume macking off with some Ninja Turtle?”

“Making some tater _tots.”_ Bokuto bounced on his toes with a hoot.

Daichi glared fixatedly at him. “What did you say?”

“Don’t listen to _him.”_ Kuroo sighed. “How about this? Come for an hour. Have a drink. If you still hate it, you can leave and we’ll never ask you to do anything Halloweeny again.”

Daichi’s shoulders sagged. “One hour?”

“Sixty minutes and not a second more.”

“And you’ll never ask me to come again?”

“Scout’s honor.”

Daichi thought it over for a few moments. “Fine,” he said tersely. “I’ll come, but next year there won’t even be a peep about it.”

“Yes!” Kuroo and Bokuto hissed, fists raised in victory. Daichi passed them without another word, thinking only of stir fry.

…

It took him longer than it should have to realize that he needed a costume. He had burned the Mr. Potato head costume years ago with Kuroo, who had made too many ‘hot potato’ jokes for it to be a healing experience, and he’d never bought one again.

He thought about texting Kuroo for help, but he really didn’t want to spend an afternoon modeling various, revealing costumes like some eighties movie montage. Instead, he remembered the suit he had bought for his cousin’s wedding and never returned. An idea, fueled by the brilliance of cheap student budgets and procrastination, bloomed in his head.

Friday night came alarmingly fast. He supposed the only good thing about having a party in his apartment was that he couldn’t be late. With roommates like Kuroo and Bokuto, however, he couldn’t have been late even if he had tried. They pried him away from his room at a quarter to six.

“Dude, it’s a costume party not your funeral,” Bokuto, dressed in what looked like a hazmat suit, teased when he saw Daichi in his crisp and clean black suit.

Daichi reached into his pocket and held up a cheap orange plastic squirt gun that he’d scored from the dollar store that morning. “I’m Bond,” he said in a terrible English accent. “James Bond.”

Bokuto started laughing so Daichi squirted him quickly in the face. Bokuto let out a squawk while Kuroo doubled over with laughter. “What are you supposed to be anyways?” Daichi huffed. “Some guy who fixes leaks in the sewer?”

Bokuto ran his hands through his hair. “Um, have you _never_ watched _Breaking Bad?_ Akaashi is matching with me.”

“Guests are coming,” Kuroo interrupted. “Your hour begins when the last guest arrives.”

“That’s cheating.”

“Fight me.”

Daichi instead went over to the snack table, frowning at the plastic severed hand floating in the punch bowl and the fake spider webs draping the table cloth. He planned to spend the next hour eating and avoiding all contact with drunken college students in costume. One hour and he was free.

The guests staring pouring in by groups. Daichi stayed near the wall, unwilling to break free of his stony posture. Kuroo gave him disapproving looks, but Daichi only tapped his wrist as if to say, _“Only fifty-nine minutes and twenty-seven seconds to go, sucker.”_

Once the music started up, and everyone had a red cup in their hands, Daichi checked his phone. Barely ten minutes had passed and he already felt exhausted. “What are you looking at?” he muttered quietly at the cheap plastic skeleton sitting on the couch beside him.

He raised his cup to his lips, not expecting in the slightest for the skeleton to respond, “Am I interrupting something?”

Daichi promptly choked on his punch, coughing furiously as he stared in the skeleton in shock. Loud laughter erupted from the end of the couch and Daichi turned to see a young doctor standing near him, a toothy smile on his face as he tried to reel in his humor. “Sorry!” the man apologized with a raised hand. “Your face was just so…” He snorted and shook his head. “Sorry about that.”

“Uh,” was Daichi’s fruitful reply. The young man in front of him was still beaming, which made his eyes crinkle with candidness. His hair was an ashen grey, parted neatly with one stubborn tuft of hair sticking up from the rest. A little mole rested beneath his left eye, and his costume made him look warm and kind. “It’s… cool.”

The doctor hummed. “So, who are you supposed to be?”

“Huh? Oh.” He stared down at himself. “Uh, James Bond.” He gestured at the other. “What about you?”

“Oh, I’m a nursing major. I was too lazy to get an actual costume so here I am.”

Daichi grinned. “This is the tux I wore to my cousin’s wedding.”

The other man nodded in approval. “Go team underachiever!” he cheered and pointed at where the skeleton rested on the sofa. “You think he’ll mind if I take that seat?”

Daichi shook his head and held out a hand as if to say _suit yourself._ The doctor removed the skeleton, placing it on a spare fold-up chair. Then, he sank into the couch with a sigh. “Ugh, tired,” he whined. “So how do you know Kuroo and Bokuto?”

“They’re my roommates,” he answered dryly.

“Oh, so you’re the guy? They always mention you, but I was starting to think you didn’t exist.”

Daichi rolled his eyes. “They’re nuisances, both of them. How do you know them?”

“Akaashi is in my major and so Bokuto was always hanging around. And it’s kind of hard not to notice him.”

“I understand,” Daichi muttered. “I meet Kuroo first. We were roommates our freshman year. Bokuto lived across from us. Pretty sure I only slept _once_ that first year and that was because he went home for the weekend.”

The man laughed. “He’s definitely loud. And did I see him in a _hazmat_ suit?”

“Terrifying, I know.” Daichi took a sip of his drink. “He’s doing some _Breaking Bad_ thing.”

The man snorted. “I would have preferred the tighty-whities look.”

Daichi laughed. Conversation flowed easily between the two of them for a long time. They traded stories, complained about midterms, exchanged likes and dislikes. Every once in a while, Daichi would glance at his phone, gauging his time. _Fifteen minutes left._

“Are you okay?” the doctor asked. “Do you have somewhere else to be?”

Daichi met the other’s eyes, saw the concerned frown, and decisively let his phone drop back into his pocket. “Nope. Nowhere.”

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, hadn’t really thought about it, until there was a lull in their talking and Daichi realized he didn’t know the other’s name. “Oh, I’m Daichi, by the way.”

“Call me Suga.”

They shook hands and Daichi was surprised by Suga’s firm grip as well as his soft skin. He was beginning to get annoyed that his roommates hadn’t introduced them sooner.

“Well, Suga, how about another drink?”

“Sure, thanks!”

Daichi excused himself and went back to the punch bowl, where he consequently ran into Kuroo. “Enjoying yourself?” he asked with a pointed, knowing grin.

Daichi just picked up his two drinks with a scowl and hurried back to where Suga was waiting.

By midnight, Daichi was pleasantly drunk and completely oblivious to the concept of time. If Bokuto or Kuroo noticed that his hour had long since passed, they didn’t mention it. In fact, Daichi hadn’t seen either of them in a long time. Suga and he had gone outside to talk without having to shout over the horrible dubstep remixes of _The Adams Family_ theme and dozens of voices slurring out ‘ _This is Halloween’._

He learnt a lot about Suga; that he was a nursing major because helping people was what he loved most, that he loved spicy foods, even that he played on his high school volleyball team as a setter. Daichi lit up the more he heard, interjecting at all the right places. “Nurse Suga. I can see that… I can’t so much as touch a pepper without reaching for water, you’re crazy… Ah, I played, too! Wing spiker.”

“Where did you go to high school?”

“Karasuno.”

Suga hummed. “We might have played you once or twice. You guys had the black uniforms?”

“Yeah, black and orange.”

Suga laughed. “I’m pretty sure we got crushed by you guys. That’s embarrassing.”

Daichi tried to place Suga’s face to a game, but he couldn’t. When he played, his eyes were usually fixated on the ball not his opponents’ features. He was starting to wish, however, that he had paid closer attention. If he had seen a face like Suga’s back then…

He set his beer down on the flimsy lawn chair next to him. He was really starting to feel the buzz. “I’m sure you were good,” he heard himself saying.

“Why’s that?” Suga asked, eyes twinkling.

“Because you probably wouldn’t have mentioned it if you sucked,” Daichi said. “Like, take baseball. I was on the baseball team as a kid. And I was _horrible._ I always swung the bat too hard and it flew out of my hands. I think I hit the pitcher more than I hit the ball. And I don’t exactly go talking about baseball all the time.”

Suga snickered behind his cup. “Oh my God, I can just see a mini-version of you holding a big bat. I think you should mention it, actually. Lead with it.”

Daichi quirked an eyebrow. “Should I just go up to random people and introduce myself like, ‘Hi, I’m Sawamura Daichi and I once flung a bat into a fourteen year old’s face?”

Suga shook his head as he laughed. “Okay, it sounds really bad when you put it like that. The other way you told it was much cuter.”

 _Cute?_ Daichi smiled, feeling warmth buzzing inside of him that had little to do with the alcohol. There was a little pause in their conversation, which Daichi killed by taking a swig from his bottle and asking, “So, other than school and volleyball, what do you do?”

Suga hummed. “I volunteer.”

Daichi hung his head. “Ugh, you’re, like, an angel. You’re making me feel terrible about myself, you know.”

His laugh turned a bit nervous, but there was a smile on his face. “A-an angel? I don’t know about that. I just like doing it, is all.”

“What kind of volunteering do you do?”

“All kinds.” Suga shrugged. “Soup kitchens, food drives, animal shelters, whatever is going on that day really. I’ve actually got a big event tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” Daichi repeated bitterly. October 31st. He was really looking forward to November.

“Mmhm. We’re all going to dress up and give sweets to kids who can’t go trick-or-treating. Like in hospitals.”

 _He’s actually an angel,_ Daichi thought, convinced. Pretty soon Suga was going to sprout a halo and wings. Daichi’s eyes drifted downwards before he hastily drank more of his drink. No angel should have legs like _that._

“That’s really nice,” he said genuinely. “I always wanted to volunteer like that. Haven’t really gotten around to doing it, though.”

Suga twirled the punch in his cup for a moment, biting his lower lip, then said quickly, “Why don’t come with us tomorrow?” Daichi’s surprise must have been clear because Suga hastened to add, “I-if you want! It starts at four and it only lasts for a few hours! Unless you have plans. It’s not a big deal!”

Daichi thought for a moment. On the one hand, he had a strict policy of avoiding anything Halloween-y. It had done nothing but cause him grief and he was happy to have nothing to do with it. On the other hand, it would definitely be for a good cause. And on the _other_ – third? – hand, Suga would be there. “Okay,” he blurted out. “Yeah, that’s sounds really awesome.”

Suga’s eyes were so genuinely happy that Daichi was struck dumbfounded and barely heard a word he was saying. “…phone is dead,” Suga muttered. “What about yours?”

“Huh?” He blinked, feeling dumb.

“Here, I still have a pen in my pocket from class. I’ll just write it on a piece of paper.” Suga frowned. “Er, could I borrow a piece of paper?”

“Here.” Daichi stuck out his arm. “I’ll write it down later.”

“You sure?” Suga asked as he placed his hand on Daichi’s wrist.

Daichi tried not to stare at Suga’s fingers. “Yep.”

Suga took off the cap with his teeth and pushed Daichi’s sleeve up and started writing on his forearm. It tickled some, but Daichi was too caught up with the fact that Suga’s hand was still keeping Daichi’s arm in place across his chest to notice. “There ya go,” Suga announced with the cap still in his mouth. He removed it before adding, “I wrote down my address and number. I’m horrible at directions so just meet me there at three and we’ll just walk together, okay?”

“Kay,” Daichi said, staring at his arm in awe.

“Oh, hey, I actually like this song!” Suga exclaimed suddenly and jerked his thumb at the door. “You wanna go back in? I’m kind of curious to see how Kuroo is faring in that costume of his.”

Daichi snorted. “Prepare for a week of nightmares.”

Suga laughed, grabbed his wrist again, and led them to the door. Once inside, Daichi could hear the familiar tune clearly. Normally, his holiday cynicism would have him going right back outside and refusing to take part, but Suga’s grip was firm and his smile was distracting.

Halloween just wasn’t fair, Daichi decided as he joined the rest of the partygoers with _Thriller_ blaring overhead.

…

Daichi woke up with a groan. It was too bright, too sunny, and he was far too hungover to enjoy any of it. There was a throbbing ache in his head which resonated through the rest of his body, turning his joints to lead. He buried his head in the pillow, trying in vain to block out the piercing sun. Then, an annoying buzz near his head shook him fully awake.

His arm shot out to grab his phone, wincing at his screen and turning the brightness down before opening his messages.

**_GOOD MORNING!!_ ** **_≖_ ** **_‿_ ** **_≖_ **

Daichi could barely keep his eyes open as he typed out a reply.

**_Go to hell Kuroo._ **

Instead of going back to sleep like he desperately wanted to, he rose out of bed like a dying man, muscles aching in protest. How much did he drink last night? He had vague memories of dancing. Had he danced? _Him?_ At a Halloween party?

As he padded into the bathroom, yawning, he had the distinct feeling that he was forgetting something. Probably to kick Kuroo’s ass for letting him drink so much. He could hardly remember the previous night. There was a vague moment where he thought he might have been dancing with someone. There was a flash of ashy grey hair and a kind smile but that was all.

The feeling persisted while he showered. The hot water helped him sort his thoughts more clearly. He definitely remembered talking to his roommates before the party, and he remembered the spiked punch _very_ well, and he also remembered meeting someone.

Daichi was shampooing his hair when he noticed the soap on his arm was turning black. He rinsed it off, inspected it, and it suddenly all clicked. He let out a loud shout of surprise and, hair still sudsy, leapt out of the shower to see better. “SUGA!” he yelled in frustration. How could he have forgotten? _Suga_ was the guy he met last night. He was pretty sure they’d hit it off and, as he thought more about it, there may have been some risqué dancing later on in the night.

A sweat started to build on his forehead. He remembered Suga writing down his address on Daichi’s arm for some reason, but only the house number and a few scrambled letters had survived his half-shower. Something that looked suspiciously like a phone number was faded beyond recognition. Daichi wanted to hit himself, but the shampoo beat him to it. He hissed in pain as it fell in his eyes.

 _“DAICHI!”_ Bokuto’s muffled and tired voice shouted from the room beside him. _“Shut UP, Jesus Christ!”_

Daichi hit his head off of the tiling.

Halloween had begun on yet another high note.

…

After he finished dressing and despairing over the smeared message on his arm, it was past noon. He stared listlessly at the trashed state of the living room. Cups and plates were littered all over the floor and furniture. The streamers and balloons had fallen and the lamp was toppled over. Empty beer cans, bottles, and what looked to be feathers filled whatever empty space there had been. It was a total wreck, and Daichi was having none of it.

He found Kuroo in the kitchen, wearing sweatpants, a hoodie, and a pair of sunglasses as he delicately sipped on some coffee. “You’re cleaning it all up,” he told Kuroo firmly.

His roommate held a finger to his lips. “Inside voices, please,” he muttered. “And, I’ll take care of it. Although, I can’t help but notice you stayed the whole night.”

Daichi gritted his teeth. “I’m not admitting anything,” he huffed. “I still hate Halloween. I just… I sort of… met someone?”

Kuroo peered over his sunglasses at him.

“I think,” Daichi added lamely and Kuroo seemed to deflate. “I can’t really remember?”

“Your tolerance is shit,” Kuroo said, sounding far too amused for someone so hungover. “Well, what _do_ you remember?”

“I was talking to Suga. He was the guy wearing the doctor costume.”

“Oh, yeah. I think he was supposed to be Akaashi’s wingman but he sort of disappeared.” Kuroo grinned. “We were wondering where he went. Sly dog.”

“N-nothing happened!” Daichi flushed, reaching for the coffee pot. “We talked and I think danced? It’s really hazy.” He shook his head. “I’m never drinking again.”

“Famous last words,” Kuroo interjected.

“I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to meet him later today.”

Kuroo flashed him a thumbs up. “Nice.”

“No, _not_ nice. Because for some reason he wrote all his contact details on my arm and I freaking _washed it off.”_

Kuroo snorted into his coffee. Daichi glared at his roommate while he regained his composure. Kuroo placed a hand on his own chest. “That’s amazing.”

“Shut up. What should I do?”

“That depends. Do you want to see him again?”

“I, er…” It really shouldn’t be hard to admit these things to one of his best friends, who knew everything about his life, but – for Daichi – it was still embarrassing. “Yeah.”

Kuroo shrugged. “I’m sure Akaashi has his number, then. You could text him and say the address got smeared.”

“Akaashi, right.” Daichi nodded, took two steps, and then turned back. “How do you find Akaashi?”

Kuroo held up his hands in a ‘ _What am I going to do with you?’_ manner. “He works at the Starbucks on campus. Shift started at eleven.”

“Thank you!” He spun on his heels to grab his coat and leave, but Kuroo clasped his shoulder.

“Hold on,” he said in a strangely serious voice. “I need to give you something to aid you in your quest.”

“You hang out with Kenma too much.”

“No such thing.” Kuroo handed him his sunglasses. “If you’re half as hungover as I am then you’re going to need it. It’s a sunny, sunny day.”

…

Daichi hated campus on Halloween weekend. Each inch of available space was spitefully decorated, the sidewalks were adorned with chalk drawings of pumpkins and ghosts, and here and there people were already in costume. Daichi side-stepped three girls in witch costumes nervously. He jumped when a little dog dressed like a piece of candy corn ran across the sidewalk to its owner. He was careful not to make eye contact with it.

The line at Starbucks was ridiculously long. Too many college kids needed their fix of caffeine to knock aside the hangovers. Daichi wasn’t much better off. He adjusted his sunglasses, hoping no one would recognize him looking like a total tool. It _was_ obscenely bright out.

Finally, he approached the counter and found Akaashi Keiji in a green apron and low spirits. “Hey, Akaashi-san,” he greeted. “How are you feeling?”

“Sawamura-san,” Akaashi replied politely. “Probably better than you, by the looks of it. What would you like?”

“Uh, actually, I’m not here for coffee. I need to talk to you.”

Akaashi’s face was stern and he made no reply. Daichi stared back at him for four, five, six seconds before letting out a long, “Um…?”

“I’m listening,” Akaashi said shortly. “I’ve got a line so please be quick.”

“Right! Sorry, it’s just, um, you know Suga, right? Kuroo said you were classmates.”

“Sugawara-san? He’s in my anatomy class.” His eyes narrowed slightly, posture a bit more stiff than before. “He was _supposed_ to help me out of some stupid karaoke thing Bokuto wanted to do, but he bailed.”

“Aha, yeah,” Daichi rubbed the back of his neck, “sorry about that. We ended up talking most of the night.” Akaashi raised an eyebrow but didn’t make a comment. “So, uh, do you happen to know his number?”

“I have it in my phone.”

Daichi could hear bells ringing. “Could you give it to me? I accidentally, er, lost it and I’m supposed to meet him in a few hours.”

Akaashi scowled. “I _could_ give it to you if I _had my phone.”_

“Wha?”

“During Bokuto’s _karaoke_ stunt, I was texting Suga to find out where the hell he was when Bokuto knocked the phone right out of my hand and into the punch bowl.”

The bells in Daichi’s head abruptly stopped. “Do you know anyone else who might have it?”

“Other people in my class might,” Akaashi said. “Actually, try Azumane Asahi. He’s Suga’s roommate.”

“Azumane Asahi,” Daichi repeated. “And how do I find him?”

Akaashi shrugged. “He’s in that costume contest over by the library.”

…

Trudging back out into the autumn chill, Daichi adjusted his scarf and sunglasses as he held a steaming to-go cup of black coffee with a good luck message from Akaashi written on it. “Tell Bokuto he owes me a phone,” he had said to Daichi with every ounce of seriousness before sending him on his way.

The walk to the library was mechanic, automatic, until he noticed a large group of people in various costumes. A banner was hanging over the quad. _COSTUME CONTEST!_

As much as he wanted to turn the other way, he persevered. With a deep breath, and a quick prayer, he trudged forward.

He must have asked fifty people for their name. All of them shook their head and didn’t seem to know anyone by the name of Azumane Asahi. Daichi tried not to shirk away from some of the more gory costumes, and he attempted to keep a straight face when talking to the downright weird ones, but his patience was wearing thin. He was certain that the holiday was just trying to screw with him again.

A too-familiar little call caught his attention. “Dai-chan! Fancy meeting you at a place like this.”

Daichi inwardly cursed his bad luck. “Oikawa,” he greeted flatly.

Oikawa Tooru, Daichi’s rather flamboyant lab partner, was dressed, oddly enough, in a prison uniform. Somehow he still managed to look fashionable despite the baggy orange clothing. “Happy Halloween!” he sang. “Pretty day for a big event like this, huh?”

“Look, no offense, Oikawa, but I don’t really care about the contest.”

Oikawa laughed. “Well, that’s a given.”

“But _why_ , pray tell, are you dressed like that?”

“Ah, I’m sort of in a group,” he said breezily. “Iwa-chan is a police officer. I can’t seem to find him, though.”

Daichi had heard countless stories about ‘Iwa-chan’ and he felt sincerely sorry for the guy. Watching over Oikawa Tooru was a full time job. “Anyways,” Daichi called to get Oikawa’s attention, “I’m looking for a guy named Azumane Asahi. Do you happen to know him?”

Oikawa smirked. “Maybe.”

Daichi went deadpan. “Maybe?”

“Mm-hm. Help me find Iwaizumi and I’ll tell you.”

Daichi didn’t have time to be playing hide-and-go-seek. “You can’t be serious.”

“Deadly.” He crossed his arms. “We both lost a bet so know we have to compete in this contest wearing matching costumes. I’m not going to be stuck out here alone looking like some _Orange is the New Black_ reject.”

“Fair enough,” Daichi muttered. He didn’t really have any other options. “Do you have any ideas?”

Oikawa shrugged helplessly, innocent smile on his face. Daichi rolled his eyes, but agreed anyways. He tried to think where he would hide from Oikawa. The possibilities were endless.

He took a detour through the quad, cutting down the grassy hill, when his foot suddenly slipped on a discarded flyer for the contest and, in his flailing attempts to keep upright, managed to trip over a row of Jack-O-Lanterns, smashing two in the process. He would have hit the concrete if it hadn’t been the man in the way. The two spilled over with a loud crash and a shout that garnered the attention of everyone around.

Daichi groaned. His right foot was still planted firmly in one of the pumpkins, his coffee was all over his arm, and his everything hurt. He blinked open his eyes and hissed in pain. His glasses had fallen off and, yep, he was still hungover and the sun was still working.

“Oh my God!” a deep voice boomed from somewhere above. A dark figure loomed over him, blocking out the light. Daichi could make out a cape and… fangs? Panic gripped him when he realized the sheer _size_ of the man, who he had just mercilessly knocked over.

 _This is it,_ he thought desperately. _This is how I die._

Large hands reached down and pulled him roughly up. Daichi flinched, ready for a hit, but was released instead. “I’m so sorry!” the large man cried. “Are you hurt? I wasn’t watching where I was going, I’m sorry! Oh, no, your foot is in a pumpkin!”

“E-er, no, I’m fine,” Daichi assured. “It was my fault, really.”

“No, I’m always in the way,” the man was blathering as Daichi’s eyes adjusted to the light. He was tall and big and his hair was tied up into a high bun. His vampire costume, in fact his entire appearance, contrasted his nonthreatening tone. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Fine.” Daichi kicked the pumpkin off of his foot. “Um, sorry about that. I’m trying to find someone and I’m sorta in a rush, so…”

A guy with spikey, dyed hair shouted from the crowd. “Asahi! The contest is starting! Get over here!”

“Coming!” the vampire called back. “Well, I hope you find whoever it is you’re looking for. I’m sorry again.”

“Wasn’t your fault,” Daichi said. He almost turned away before it clicked. “Wait!” He spun around and grabbed the man’s upper arms. _“_ You’re Asahi?”

“Y-yes?”

“Azumane Asahi?”

The man went white. “How do you know my name?”

Daichi just smiled stiffly, face melting into a dark expression. “Tell me where you live.”

…

Daichi’s hand stilled at the door. Should he knock? Or should he ring the bell? Which was more polite? He was definitely overthinking it. He should just knock. His hand didn’t move.

It took him another moment to gather his courage before he could knock properly. He checked his watch. It was three thirty-two.

He could hear footsteps approaching and a moment later Daichi was met with clear brown eyes instead of a white door. For a moment, Daichi’s heart seemed to be struggling to keep its rhythm and he had to cough to hide his discomfort. “Er, hi.”

Suga smiled. “Hey. I was beginning to think you weren’t going to show.”

“Sorry,” Daichi hung his head, “it was… a longer journey than I thought.”

“No problem. Let me just grab my coat and we can go, okay?” Suga’s smile didn’t falter even for a second. “Would you like to come in?”

“Sure, thank you.” Daichi stepped in. It was a nice place – sparsely decorated but also clean. “Nice,” he commented.

“My roommate likes things neat,” Suga told him. “He’s kind of a sensitive soul.”

 _And now he’s terrified of me._ Daichi chuckled nervously, remembering how Asahi had stuttered out directions like he was giving up federal secrets. He decided to steer the conversation to a new topic. “So, how are you feeling?”

“Oh, I don’t get hangovers, if that’s what you mean.” Suga grinned victoriously but lifted a little plastic bottle off of his table. “If those broken sunglasses mean anything, though, I’d say you could use a few ibuprofens.”

Daichi could have kissed him then and there. “You’re an actual saint.”

Suga rolled his eyes, pleased nonetheless, and handed him the medicine. A strange look passed over his face. “Why is your leg covered in pumpkin grimes?”

Daichi stared down at his pant leg in dismay. “I, er… I sort of… um…” Suga’s expectant look made him spill over like an overdue volcano. “I hate Halloween!” he blurted out. “I hate Halloween a _lot._ It’s trying to kill me, I swear. My stupid roommates forced me to go to their party and then I met _you_ but I washed off the directions you gave me last night and I ran all over campus trying to figure out where you lived but there was Halloween stuff _everywhere_. I tried to avoid a bunch of people in costumes when I sort of fell over a bunch of Jack-O-Lanterns and got covered in pumpkin guts and quite literally ran into your roommate.” He blew out a sigh. “I’m really sorry.”

Suga was biting his lower lip, looking close to laughter. Daichi glared at him. “What?”

Suga shook his head, covering his mouth when he let out a snort. “I-I’m sorry!” he choked out. “I’m just picturing you and Asahi falling on a bunch of pumpkins.” Daichi groaned. Suga laughed harder. “It’s just… don’t you remember? At the end of the night I figured I’d just put my number in your phone, too.”

Daichi blinked several times. He pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts, unbelievingly, until he found a new one titled ‘Suga :)’. “Oh my _God,”_ Daichi could have cried, “this whole time?”

“Afraid so.” Suga chuckled. “How drunk _were_ you?”

Daichi scowled. “It’s Halloween’s fault.”

“Blaming a children’s holiday. Minus two points.” Suga winked teasingly. “Why do you hate Halloween anyways?”

“I always have extremely bad luck.” Daichi raised his shoulders. “Like, once a dog chased me across a yard. Another year, I had all my candy stolen. Oh, I found out I was allergic to peanuts one year. And my ex hooked up with another guy while we were wearing matching uniforms.” Daichi listed them off on his fingers. “And now I woke up with the worst hangover in the world and had no idea how I could talk to you again.”

Suga’s easy smile was worth the pain, though. “Okay, so you’ve had a pretty rough Halloween experience so far,” he agreed. “But I refuse to let you be a grump all Halloween.” He shrugged on his coat determinedly. “We’re going to have the best Halloween ever.”

Daichi cringed. “Suga, I don’t think...”

“No buts! Halloween is one of my _favorite_ holidays. And I never got chased by any dogs.”

“That’s because you haven’t spent one with me,” Daichi reasoned glumly. “I’m bad luck!”

Suga’s eyes sparkled mischievously, and Daichi knew he was in way over his head with this one, especially when Suga reached over and grabbed his wrist again. “I’ll be the judge of that,” he said. “Now let’s go.”

Suga led Daichi out of the apartment and into the leaf-covered street. Daichi had a feeling, as he stared down at their intertwined hands, that this Halloween was already the best one he’d had.

…

_One Year Later_

The doorbell rang twice through the neat apartment. Daichi abandoned the popcorn he was popping and hastened to answer it. “I’ve got it!” he called out and lifted a large plastic bowl overflowing with candy. He opened the door and smiled as three young kids dressed in costume held out their pillow cases.

“Trick or treat!” they shouted in unison.

“Nice costumes,” Daichi told them earnestly. “What are you guys?”

The boy in the middle spoke first. “I’m the Flash!” he chirped excitedly. A chunk of orange hair was sticking out from underneath his red suit. “I can go superfast like _nyow!”_

The taller boy beside him, donned in Harry Potter robes and thick, round glasses, nudged the other. “It’s _nyoom!”_

“And how about you?” Daichi turned to the blonde little girl at the end, who squeaked nervously and hid her face slightly behind her bag. He pointed to her white hat. “I like the ears.”

“They’re not ears,” the boy in the Flash costume said.

“I’m F-Fionna,” the girl clarified.

“I have no idea who that is,” Daichi announced cheerily and held out the bowl, eyes widening when the kids nearly attacked it. “You can take two,” he told them. The Flash let out a happy noise and consequently slapped the other boy’s hand away before he could snatch the last KitKat bar. “Don’t fight!”

“Thank you very much!” the three cheered, bowing before happily making their way back to their parents.

Daichi blew out a sigh and shut the door. That had been slightly more stressful than he had expected. Had he been that aggressive as a kid? Maybe he was just getting old.

A pair of arms suddenly wrapped around him and he jumped. Warm laughter sounded in his ear and Daichi immediately relaxed into the body behind him. “Sorry,” Suga said cheekily. “I didn’t mean to scare you. You just looked so cute with those kids.”

“You’re supposed to be the one giving out the candy,” Daichi huffed, just to be difficult.

Suga snorted. “My bladder deeply apologizes that you had to answer the door _once_ on Halloween. You poor thing.” He pushed a kiss to Daichi’s cheek before pulling away. “At least you’re not as grumpy as you used to be on Halloween, though.”

Daichi turned around. “Well, I’ve got a pretty good reason to celebrate it now, don’t I?”

Suga’s eyebrows knotted together. “You do?”

Daichi clutched his chest, feigning pain. “Our anniversary.”

Now Suga was pouting. “Our anniversary is in November. November thirtieth. You asked me out after Kuroo got tipsy and we had to drive him home, remember?”

Daichi grimaced. That wasn’t a very romantic moment. “That’s when we _officially_ started dating, but our first date was on Halloween.”

Suga grinned, shaking his head. “You consider _that_ a date? We barely talked.”

“But I was still really glad I got to spend time with you,” Daichi said honestly. “And you were totally sending me signals the whole time.”

He had the delight of watching his boyfriend’s face turned dark red. “I-I was not! I just thought you were really nice! A-and… well, you _did_ look really good in that tux you wore to the party.”

“Aha!” Daichi pointed at him. “So you admit it.”

“I admit nothing.” Suga lifted his chin and turned to go salvage the popcorn that was still popping in the microwave. As soon as his back was turned, Daichi reached for the candy bowl. “Don’t eat the candy! It’s for the kids!” Suga barked from the kitchen.

_How does he know every time?_

“Blah, blah, blah,” Daichi teased and plopped onto the couch.

Suga joined him a moment later, fitting himself around Daichi’s arm and cradling the bag of popcorn in his lap. Suga took it upon himself to choose the movie.

“Noo,” Daichi whined. “Can’t we watch something _not_ about Halloween?”

 _“Hocus Pocus_ is a fantastic work of cinematography,” Suga argued and then stuck his tongue out. “I think you’re just playing it up now. Admit it.”

“Admit what?”

“That you love Halloween!”

“I couldn’t lie to you like that.”

Suga’s grin was wolfish. He jabbed Daichi’s side lightly, causing Daichi to jump out of his seat. “Come on. Candy, old movies, cuddles, it’s a great holiday!”

“Suga!” Daichi struggled uselessly against his boyfriend’s tickling, laughing as those dexterous fingers found each weak spot. “St-stop!”

“Not until you tell me the truth! Tell me that the Grinch is dead!”

“Okay, fine, fine!” Daichi held up his hands in surrender and Suga halted, waiting patiently. “Halloween isn’t bad,” he reached up to brush Suga’s hair out of his eyes, “as long as it’s with you.”

A pleased tint colored Suga’s cheeks and a silly grin splayed across his features. Ducking down, Suga murmured against his lips, “And his heart grew three sizes that day.”

**Author's Note:**

> Oikawa never did find Iwaizumi that day. ;w;
> 
> tumblr; [ghostystarr](http://ghostystarr.tumblr.com)


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